At Loggerheads
by SylvieT
Summary: Spoilers for 11.05 House of Hoarders.  This little story is a rather wishful – fanciful? – spin on the layout room scene between Nick, Sara and Ray.  Except Ray isn't there; Grissom is. GSR, and a little Hodges too.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Watching House of Hoarders a few days ago, I kept thinking about how I'd have loved for Grissom to have worked that scene – or just pop out from behind one of those storage boxes and arch his brow, or just _be_ there. God, I miss him. Sara did the teaser line, she was good but she was no Grissom. Anyway, when I got to the layout room scene between Nick, Sara and Ray, I got crossed. Ray was okay in the episode and I loved that Sara and Nick butted heads. But I hated that Ray was delivering what I felt were Grissom's lines, especially in that scene, and rather flatly at that.

So, I've kind of reworked that scene a little. For it to work you don't have to have seen the episode but you've got to imagine that Grissom is back working at the lab. This is where the wishful bit comes in. He left to go to Costa Rica to win his girl back. Then they went to Paris, Sara came back and then Grissom. Ray's not here, he's left. I don't know where he's gone. I don't care where he's gone. Sorry Ray. I'm sure Doc Robbins can quite easily dispose of a body.

It's a little different – very different – from my usual stuff and NONE of the dialogue is mine, sadly, everything else is.

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**At Loggerheads.**

* * *

"Well," Sara said on entering the layout room, looking rather pleased with herself, "Greg just IDed our jailer." She made eye contact with the two men in the room and set down on the table in front of Nick the copy of the gun shop receipt that Greg had managed to unearth. "Julian Santiago," she went on, "he purchased the handcuffs." She met Nick's gaze dead on. _Here's your culprit, Stokes._

Her expression and tone of voice were a little too smug for Nick's liking. "So what?" he retorted coolly, raising both shoulders dismissively. "He also has a permit to carry; he works with juvenile offenders."

Sara shot her colleague a dark, how-dare-you-question-my-judgement-in-front-of-Grissom look before giving a quick sideways glance toward her husband. His eyes firmly on Nick as he spoke, he was doing his best to stay focused on the case and ignore his…_colleagues_' continuing divergence of opinions.

Undeterred by Sara's glare, Nick continued with his reasoning. "All the hard evidence points to Mrs Santiago."

Grissom narrowed his eyes at Nick. _Wow, stop right there cowboy!_ _That's not strictly true._"What Nick means," he said, turning toward Sara, "is that there were two sets of prints in the bedroom. There were Alisa's prints and her mother's prints."

He sighed and flicked his gaze between Nick and Sara. He needed to diffuse the situation before their little dispute about the case escalated into full blown war. Truth be told, he was worried about Sara. She hadn't been herself since she'd stepped into that house and met Mrs Santiago. Her empathy for the suspect was commendable and understandable considering her own past. But she was letting it cloud her judgement. His eyes settled once more on his wife and bushed lovingly over her face, full of concern.

Pleased that Grissom agreed with him, Nick continued with his reasoning. "And the scrapings that you collected under Mrs Santiago's nails were a match to the talcum powder and the skin lotion next to the bed so-"

"So that puts Mrs Santiago in the bedroom, not Julian," Grissom finished as diplomatically as possible. _You two shouldn't be trying to score points against each other here,_ he told them with a stern look._ You should be working together in order to identify the four boys' killer._

Sara stared at her husband with disbelief. She took a short breath and dropped her gaze, grudgingly backing down from her position. "Okay." _What the hell! I know I'm right on this, Grissom. Why do you have to be such a...such an smartass about this? _"But," she tried again, "Julian is still our connection to those dead boys and the bedroom. Maybe, Mrs Santiago was being dominated by her son. Maybe she wasn't acting out of free will."

_God, Sara, you're like Hank with a bone. _Grissom lifted a shoulder as he pondered Sara's argument but before he could voice a carefully-weighted and phrased opinion, Nick piped up with, "What is it about this woman that has got you so blind?"

"What is it about this case that has you acting like such an ass right now?" she retorted levelly. She glanced briefly toward Grissom. _Aren't you going to say something?_

A shiver ran down Grissom's spine. This went deeper than professional rivalry and a conflict of opinion, even if Sara had vested interest in this. The dark shadows dancing across her eyes didn't bode well. In that one unguarded second, he had glimpsed fear and anger in those brown chocolate orbs, fear and anger that Sara was doing her utmost to keep a lid on. The last time he had seen her so riled up, so emotionally involved in a case was the Kira Dellinger's murder case, and with catastrophic consequences. He had to do something to stop her before she self-destructed again. He wouldn't underestimate the situation and make the same mistake as last time. He couldn't have her walk out on him. God, he couldn't let it get that far.

"Oh, I'm an ass now?"Nick retorted with utter disbelief.

Sara wasn't having any of Nick's arrogant, self-affected attitude. She was on a mission to clear Mrs Santiago's name and she wouldn't let anyone, least of all Nick stop her. "There's a very real possibility," she insisted, "that Julian killed those two boys to keep them away from his sister and he's using his mother and her house to bury the evidence."

Arms folded over his chest in a typical defensive gesture, Nick stared down Sara.

"You're absolutely right," Grissom said with conviction; he needed to do some damage limitation, and now, "There is that possibility." Sara turned her stare from Nick to her husband, eying him with interest. His eyes were smiling at her, his hands twitched by his sides yearning to reach out to her and touch her. He wanted to tell her he knew what was going through her head, that he understood, that it was okay to think that way. He wanted to alleviate her fears, to tell her to hold on, that soon they would be home and they could take all the time in the world to talk about it. He wanted to tell her he loved her, damn ghosts and all, that he was there for her. He wanted to do all these things and he couldn't.

He felt his hand to the collar of his shirt and thought of the one word that he could always rely on. "So…why don't we stick to the evidence that we have. Can we try that?"

"Okay," Nick replied first, making eye contact with Sara.

"Fine," Sara hissed through gritted teeth, as she held Nick's gaze with a darkened one of her own.

Grissom pursed his face knowingly. "So the evidence that we have suggests that Diana Santiago's murder was an accident. We can't prove either suspect committed murder. What we do know is that Mrs Santiago falsely imprisoned Alisa."

"So what do you want to do about it?" Sara said. Her eyes told a different story.

Grissom lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Julian lawyered up so I guess we can take another look at the mother." He regretted his words as soon as he said them.

And right on cue, "All right," Sara said. "I'll talk to her. We've spent some time together. We connected."

_That's not a good idea, Sara. For whatever reason, you're far too emotionally involved in this case to see the whole picture. Maybe Nick should do it._

But before he could verbally phrase his reluctance, Nick did his very fine impression of a Texan bull in a china shop. "That's not going to happen," he said, already heading out of the door. "_I'll _talk to her," he added with an emphatic hand on his chest as he left._ Slam dunk, Sidle!_

Sara could barely contain her anger and frustration and the dripping sarcasm from her voice. "Good luck with that, Nick."

Grissom cleared his throat. Nick was gone leaving him free to show Sara some emotional support. He pushed up to his feet and began to reach his hand toward her.

"What?" she snapped in her usual defensive/attacking tone.

His hand snapped back to his side and he shrugged. "You know, I've been where you've been Sara, and sometimes I find it's best to take a deep breath and…"

_Oh, Grissom. Not now. This isn't about you and me. This is about the case. _She turned on her heels and without another word walked out on him.

"…and walk away," he finished lamely, letting out a long, dreary breath.

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A/N: This is what Grissom's absence from the show is doing to me. I'm now reduced to watching episodes and substituting Ray's face for Grissom's. And sadly I can't seem to get the voice right. God, how I miss his voice.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: The new revised Grissom, post-One to Go, the sensitive, perceptive and thoughtful Grissom we all love to read and write and fantasize about wouldn't have left the last scene at that. He would NOT have let Sara leave the room without clearing the air and making sure she was okay. The show owes us some GSR. This long-distance crap is getting old and me frustrated.

This scene takes place directly after where the last chapter left off, so before Sara's confession to Julian. I'm still trying to make sense of that little bombshell... Anyway, I hope you like this. Let me know and I'll write another chapter.

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Grissom ran a tired hand over his face. _Shit. Now who's being an ass?_ he thought, jumping to his feet and out of the layout room. "Sara?" he called after her. "Sara, wait!" Sara was already half-way down the corridor when he caught up with her. "Wait," he repeated quietly, earnestly, his hand on her shoulder stopping her flight.

Sara slowed to a reluctant stop outside the Trace lab but didn't turn toward him. He could see her shoulders rise and fall rapidly with each fraught breath, the tendons on her neck working with the effort it took her to keep her composure. He could imagine the tears stinging the back of her eyes she was fighting to keep in as her heart slowly shattered into pieces over her heartache and frustrations about the case and Nick's insensitive handling of Mrs Santiago and her illness.

She kept her back to him as he stepped closer until he stood a breath away from her and he could feel the barely contained anger seep out of her every pores. He sighed, dipping his head until his forehead pressed slightly against the side of her head, and closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said into her ear. He clenched his fingers, his hands restlessly twitching by his side longing to reach out to her. "I didn't mean it the way it came out; I know how strongly you feel about that case and about proving Mrs Santiago's innocence. I don't want you to think that I'm taking Nick's side or that I don't respect your opinion and judgement." He paused, letting his words sink before adding softly, apologetically, "The evidence we got doesn't sustain either scenario, that's all."

Sara blinked quickly but didn't speak. She didn't say a word lest her emotion got the better of her. She just lifted a small shoulder, nodding in acquiescence of his words. _I know, _her demeanour told him. _I just can't deal with this right now. _She seemed a little calmer though, as if his words had had the soothing effect he was after, her breaths not hitching as much. She nodded her head again, and without a word or a look made to leave.

_She's hurting. She needs you. Be there for her. Now. _He licked his lips and looked up and down the corridor briefly. It was empty. With no more hesitation he placed gentle hands on her shoulders, stopping her before slowly turning her round. She was looking down to the floor and he dipped his head, smiling. "Sara, please," he said, using a finger to tip her chin up, making eye contact. His smile widened hesitantly. "It's me now Gil, not Grissom. And certainly not Nick."

His eyes shone with deep love and certainty and reading the truth of his words in them Sara nodded her head again, her lips thinning into a small smile. _I know and I'm sorry,_ her warm chocolate eyes said. He was smiling broadly now and not caring whether they were being watched or not, he pulled her toward him, his arms wrapping around her in a tight hug, one hand stroking gently up and down her spine. His gesture was one of comfort and support.

Sara pushed herself off him, pulling away from his embrace. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know you mean well but I can't do this here, now."

_I know this is not the place, _his eyes told her, _but__ I don't care._ _I'm here for you, here and now. _Nodding, Grissom dropped his hands by his side and watched as she turned away.

She seemed to think better of it and suddenly whipped her body back round toward him. "I'm okay," she said in a whisper, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "and I appreciate your concern." Her gaze veered off to a point above his shoulder her expression darkening slightly, and Grissom turned, catching sight of Hodges watching them through the plate glass, giving him a stern look that startled the tech back to his work.

When he turned back toward his wife, she was walking away. "Sara," he called in a warm, loving tone that seemed to say all at once, _We talked about this. No more hiding what we feel. I love you, _causing her to pause in her tracks and turn toward him, expectant.

He smiled and shrugged. "I'll be around if you need…" he shrugged again, "you know, if you need anything." _Me,_ he wanted to say. Instead, he tried to convey all his feelings in his smile.

She sighed and looked down, reaching for his hand, entwining her fingers through his. She made eye contact again, a small smile playing round the edges of her mouth. "I'm going to be okay," she said at last, with more conviction. She reached up with her free hand and stroked his face tenderly, holding his gaze and wordlessly telling him that she appreciated his support but that really she would be fine. "I've got you; you're here with me."

Grissom smiled back, nodding. "Okay." Then he thought better of it, squeezing her hand warmly and saying quickly, "Actually no. I'm due for a break and so are you. Let's go get a cup of Greg's coffee."

"I can't," she said in a sigh.

His brow arched. "Sara, ten minutes," he said with mock-sternness. "Ten minutes with your husband."

She opened her mouth to say 'No' but it came out as a sigh. "Later maybe. Now, I want to go to PD. Be there for Mrs Santiago. Nick doesn't understand. He doesn't get that she's sick, that her mental illness makes her act differently from the rest of us. He doesn't get that that doesn't make her a murderer."

Grissom nodded his understanding. "You want me to come with you?"

She shook her head briskly.

"Sure?"

She flashed him a bright, loving smile.

"Okay," he said, "Let me know when you get back. I'll take you out for breakfast."

Hodges chose this moment to rasp his knuckles against the plate-glass. Grissom turned an irritated frown toward the tech who nodded earnestly, pointing at him, before sighing and turning back to Sara. He played with her fingers for a moment before reluctantly letting go. "It seems I'm needed anyway. I see you later."

She reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Thank you."

He pursed his face knowingly, his expression amused as he glanced at a gawping Hodges from the corner of his eye. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Sara lifted a mild shoulder. "Give him something to fantasize about. He's been like a love-sick puppy ever since Wendy left."

Grissom chuckled. "Harsh, but fair." He glanced quickly at Hodges. "Maybe I ought to share some of my insight with him and save him a lot of…time," he settled for eventually.

Sara smiled and raised her hand in a small wave as she took a few steps backwards.

He waved back and turned, headed to Hodges' lab. "Oh, and Sara?" he called over his shoulder, waiting until she acknowledged him to carry on. "For the record, Nick_ was_ being an ass." He shrugged. "I just…couldn't tell him."

Sara let out the familiar giggle that warmed his heart every single time. "Once upon a time you would have," she retorted merrily.

He conceded the point with a nod. "I'm not the boss anymore. He is."

"That didn't stop me telling him…or you for that matter when_ you_ were the boss."

Grissom's brow furrowed with surprise. "You never called me an ass!" he exclaimed.

Hodges gave out a loud snort which he promptly tried to cover up with a cough.

"Didn't I?" Sara said, laughing. She winked, making a left turn and disappearing toward the locker room. "Oh, and don't forget breakfast!" she called back loudly.

"Can I come?" Hodges asked, causing Grissom to jump out of his skin.

Grissom turned round and found Hodges leaning against his lab door jamb staring wistfully at Sara's retreating form. His wide grin morphed into a puzzled purse of the face. "Come where?"

"To breakfast, with you and Sara," Hodges said as if it were the most natural thing for him to say and do. He shook himself out of his trance and refocused his pensive smile on Grissom. "To be honest, Gil," he went on, undeterred by his old boss's stunned expression, "I could do with a little advice – of the womanly kind if you know what I mean."


	3. Chapter 3

Grissom sat on the bench in the locker room staring at his phone, debating with himself whether he ought to call Sara to make sure she was okay. He wanted to be there for her but he didn't want her to feel stifled and watched. But he was hungry, and his stomach chose this moment to remind him. He was about to speed-dial her number when in walked Nick.

"Griss," the Texan greeted tiredly, shrugging his jacket off, "You clocking off?"

"I am," Grissom replied with assurance. _I got a hot date with my wife,_ he thought to himself, _so don't go sending me out on a scene._ "It's been a long shift," he added when Nick lapsed into silence.

Nick divested himself of his gun and cuffs. "You can say that again."

"Listen, Nick, did you just come from PD? Do you know if Sara's on her way back?"

"Yes and no. Last I saw of her she was with Brass."

Grissom glanced at his phone hesitantly before putting it away. "You're not headed home?" he asked Nick, getting up from the bench and reaching inside his locker for his jacket.

Nick pulled a face. "With Catherine off these last few days, paperwork's piled up, so…" he let his words drift meaningfully.

Grissom's smile was knowing. "I don't miss it."

Nick gave a small chuckle. "I'm sure you don't." There was a pause and a short sigh. "I take it you heard Alisa Santiago's our killer?"

Grissom paused in his movement, and turned, slowly nodding his head in reply to Nick. He smiled at Nick's downcast expression and clapped him on the shoulder lightly. "Let this be a lesson, Nicky," he said good-humouredly, holding the younger man's gaze, "never try to make your evidence-"

Nick laughed. "-fit a theory," he finished. "I know." His laughter petered out quickly and he shrugged, his expression once again turning solemn. "Listen, Griss, when you see Sara, can you tell her I'm sorry I was such an ass to her?"

Grissom stifled his chuckle and nodded without commenting. He grabbed his jacket out of his locker and tossed it over his shoulder. "Don't work too late," he said, giving Nick one last clasp of the shoulder as he walked past. "There's more to life than just this."

Nick's brow arched in surprise and he laughed. "I'll keep it in mind, big man. See you tonight."

No sooner had he pulled into the car lot at PD than he saw her. She was sitting on the curb away from the main entrance, head bowed down between her legs, reminiscent of the time he'd found her after the lab explosion – _a lifetime ago_, he thought. He sighed, pulled up in a spot nearby and joined her side quietly. He let out another breath and wordlessly sat down next to her on the curb. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, his free hand reaching for hers and he squeezed her to him while stroking his lips to her temple.

Cars, trucks, police cruisers pulled in and out of the lot, unnoticed. People walked past them, staring, enquiring with their eyes, ignored. After long minutes spent like this, silent yet saying so much to her, and when he felt Sara's breathing return to normal he spoke, saying softly, "I saw Nick. He says sorry for being an ass."

Sara scoffed, looking up in front of her toward the lot, the edges of a smile forming on her lips.

"He's an ass," he repeated quietly, a soft chuckle escaping.

Her smile widened and she turned shiny eyes toward him.

He smiled back, pushed her hair away from her eyes and brushed a kiss to her nose. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

She lifted her hand to cup his face and watched him tenderly as she nodded her head. "I do, but not here. I'm hungry. Let's go have breakfast first."

"You sure?"

She nodded again and leaned across to kiss his lips. "Thank you."

He was positively beaming at her. "You're welcome." He pushed up to his feet, pulling her up with him. "We got to make a couple of stops first. Is that okay?" he said as they walked to his Mercedes.

"Sure," she smiled before stopping abruptly. "Shoot," she said. "I got to take the truck back to CSI."

Grissom paused. "It's okay. I'll do the errands and meet you there."

Sara's brow furrowed questioningly.

He tapped the side of his nose. "Curiosity killed the cat, Ms Sidle," he said, laughing mischievously.

Fifteen minutes later, a picnic basket in the trunk of his car and a panting Hank on the back seat, Grissom picked up a waiting Sara from the CSI car lot. She opened the door to be met by a boisterous Hank, eager to lick a smile onto his master's face. Sara laughed, took a moment to return his affection before pushing him back onto the back seat.

"Hank's coming to breakfast with us?" she asked with surprise as she buckled up.

Grissom winked his reply and put the car in drive.

Sara laughed but didn't probe further. "By the way," she said as Grissom pulled out into the traffic. "I had time to go talk to Nick – just now. I wanted to, you know, make peace."

"Good." He covered her hand with his on her lap. "I think," he added choosing his words carefully and returning his eyes on the road, "You were both guilty of wanting the same thing but to different ends."

Sara nodded. "I know." A smile suddenly spread across her face.

"What?" he asked laughing.

Sara opened her mouth to talk but then shook her head, giggling.

"What?" he asked again.

"Did you…ever give Nick a blue marble?"

His eyebrows shot up half-way up his forehead, a sudden sheepish look flashing across his eyes. "A blue marble?" he repeated cautiously, feigning blankness, his eyes firmly on the road.

"You know…if life ever gets crazy…roll with it," she prompted without a trace of humour.

Grissom played it safe. "Ah, _that _blue marble." He chanced a look in her direction. "It was long time ago, Sara. Some seminar about 'successful management of your unit' Ecklie sent me on. They gave out a load of marbles and-"

"I think I can guess the rest."

Grissom's expression darkened and he removed his hand from Sara's lap to rub his face. "I gave Warrick one of them too," he said wistfully after a moment, turning back toward her. She was watching him and she smiled softly, reaching for his hand, nodding her head at his words. The rest of the drive was spent in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Ten minutes later, Grissom pulled into a parking spot on the kerbside near the entrance to Desert Breeze Park and recognising his surroundings, Hank began to yelp joyfully from the back seat. Sara laughed.

"What have you got in mind, Gilbert?" she asked with a pout as she got out of the car, folding the seat forward so Hank could disembark too. Grissom followed suit and made his way to the trunk of the car. "Now he's seen the park we have no chance of making it to breakfast this side of noon. Except of course, if you consider _'Pretzels'_", she said miming quotation marks and nodding toward a nearby street seller, "an appropriate break-" The word died on Sara's lip, her face pursing with amusement when Grissom took out of the trunk the picnic basket he'd had prepared and presented it smugly to her.

He raised a brow, shrugging. "It's a nice morning," he said by way of explanation, "and Hank could do with the exercise."

They found a spot away from the main thoroughfare so Hank could have a nose around without being kept on the lead, and spread out a blanket on the grass. Sara took off her boots and stretched out on her back on the blanket, while Grissom unpacked their picnic.

"Do you remember the picnic we had in the Bois de Boulogne this time last year?" Sara said out of the blue, her eyes looking up toward the bright late October sky. She turned, leaning on her elbow and met Grissom's gaze, expectant. "Before I left to come back here?"

He smiled fondly at the recollection. "When we found the kitten?" he asked despite knowing exactly which occasion she was referring to. He took out a Thermos flask and two plastic cups out of the basket, holding out one to her.

Sara nodded her reply distractedly as she took the cup. "That day…it's stayed with me, Gil. It kind of was a turning point." She watched as he poured them both a drink of hot chocolate and she burst out into a disbelieving laughter.

"I thought," he said pre-empting her next question, "that you could do with a little cheering up. And you know what the French say about hot chocolate, don't you?" He shrugged, and rummaged in the basket, asking, "Croissant or pain au chocolat, ma chérie?"

Sara's eye twinkled with mischief and she arched her brow. Grissom laughed and gave her one of each.

They ate in silence until Sara said quite out of the blue and unemotionally, "I just…spilt my guts out to some total stranger."

"Julian Santiago?" he asked.

Sara didn't look in the least surprise that he would have guessed. She just nodded thoughtfully. "He blames his mother and her illness for Alisa's pathology and her actions and…" she paused and wordlessly Grissom reached across to take her hand. "And I can't help comparing Mrs Santiago to my mother."

"And you to Julian?" he asked, voicing the words he knew she was thinking.

She lifted her shoulder in a reluctant shrug before nodding. "He left as soon as he could and he did well for himself. His sister on the other hand, Alisa she-"

"She is sick, Sara," he said with confidence. "You know as well as I do that her mother's mental illness did not make her a murderer."

"I know," Sara said quickly. She squeezed his hand, her lips curling in a small smile. "I know and that's what I told Julian, but it brought it home again."

Grissom nodded. Keeping a tight hold of her hand he shuffled next to her and sat up behind her, pulling her up so she leaned against him. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, brought his lips to her hair and just held her silently. Words weren't needed. Sara was stronger now and he knew that she would come through this test of her mental strength just fine. Hank's joyful barking drew him out of his thoughts and he smiled, watching as the dog chased a small animal in the distance.

"You know," Grissom said after a moment, "Hodges asked me if he could come to breakfast with us."

Sara whipped her head round toward Grissom, her eyes wide with incredulity. "I hope you told him where to get off."

Grissom winced and then shrugged, "Not as such."

"What?"

"He asked for some advice – I couldn't just say no!"

"I can't believe you just said that!"

"It's the new sensitive, perceptive, thoughtful me," he said sheepishly.

"You've always been those things," Sara said, turning and snuggling closer into his chest. "You just didn't let on very often. But letting him crash our breakfast?"

"Come on Sara, the man's miserable. He's mopping about the lab like there's no tomorrow. I can't let him go on like that. It's painful to watch, even to me! I had to do something!"

The loud clearing of a throat caused both their heads to snap up skyward. Sara plastered a polite pleasantly-surprised smile on her face and discreetly elbowed her husband in the ribs while he said breezily enough, "David, you found us then?"

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A/N: One more chapter, I think. I think Hodges could do with a little fatherly advice from Grissom.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this variation on a great episode. It certainly was a lot of fun to write and in a way it's made me miss Grissom even more. I've been thinking about this long-distance business and we all assume Grissom's still in Paris but for all we know he's back in Vegas and Sara goes home to him every single day after shift. Notice how she's had her hair cut a little shorter, so it's a little curlier? Didn't Grissom once said he liked her hair a little curly? ;-) I know, I live in hope!

Thank you for reading. I loved reading your reviews and your thoughts on the show.

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"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Hodges asked, his gaze flicking between Grissom and Sara uncertainly. His smile was tentative at the very least, almost awkward like he knew he was intruding on a special moment.

Grissom and Sara shared a look and he smiled at her gratefully, before turning and shaking his head briskly in reply to Hodges's question. "We'd just finished," he said at last, releasing the tight hold he had of his wife.

Relief washed all over the tech's face and he clasped his hands tightly in front of him, swaying on his feet uncomfortably. "Thank you," he said, his words directed at both Sara and Grissom, "I appreciate you doing this."

Sara studied Hodges with narrowed eyes for a moment and seeing the grave, almost despondent look on his face she flashed his a warm smile and grabbed her boots before turning toward Grissom. "You know what?" she said brightly as she forced her feet into her boots. "I'm…huh…going to go play ball with Hank."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Hodges exclaimed genuinely.

She scrambled to her feet, dusted off a little grass off her pant legs and bent to pick up Hank's tennis ball. "It's okay," she replied easily. "He could do with the exercise anyway." She straightened up and smiled at Hodges.

"Thanks, Sara," Grissom said, reaching up for her free hand and squeezing it warmly. Sara nodded and returned his smile and he watched her take off at a jog, calling for Hank to come, before refocusing his gaze on Hodges who was watching Sara with fondness. "You don't have to stand, David," he said, amused by the tech's obvious discomfort and formal stance.

"Oh." Hodges shook himself out of his trance and looked down toward the blanket. "Sorry." He hesitated for an instant before dropping down on his haunches rather uncomfortably.

"I'm surprised you should ask advice from me," Grissom said, chuckling at Hodges's uneasiness, his eyes once again drawn to Sara and Hank playing ball as he spoke, "especially concerning women. I don't think I've much to share on that front."

"Oh, on the contrary," Hodges enthused. "You're the perfect person for me to ask. You and I are the same," he added emphatically, causing Grissom to frown with puzzlement. "We live for the science. We breathe it, we are it, we…" he struggled to find the right words, "it consumes us; it's our life – our passion, our reason for being."

Grissom pursed his face with a mixture of surprise and interest, thinking how true this assessment of his character had been once upon a time but not anymore.

"But _you,_" Hodges went on passionately as if reading Grissom's mind. "You took the next step; you left it all. You risked it all for her." His gaze flicked to Sara and he watched her for a long moment before asking, "How did you know to do that?"

Grissom took in a long breath as he pondered Hodges's question. Hank let out a couple of joyful barks and a bright smile instinctively spread across his face at the sound. He turned and watched Sara laugh as she tossed the tennis ball as far as she could, the Boxer taking off at a sprint after it. Immediately his heart filled, swelling up with unconditional love and deep contentment. He was pleased he had pushed past his initial reluctance at inviting Hodges along. Seeing how Sara had transformed his life for the better was bound to make a difference and if Hodges could have even one percent of what he and Sara had then it was worth opening up and sharing a little wisdom.

"David," he replied eventually, refocusing his eyes on the tech, "you got to ask yourself one question." He paused, smiling, raising his eyebrows questioningly before saying, "Is she the one? And if she is then you got to put her first."

"Even before your passion?" Hodges retorted at once. "Before yourself?"

Grissom took in another long breath. "Yeah" he replied simply, nodding his head with certainty. "It took me far too long to realise it but if Wendy is your Sara – and this is who we're talking about here, isn't it?" he asked. To which, Hodges nodded vigorously. "Then it doesn't matter where you are as long as you're with her; the science will still be with you."

Hodges thought about Grissom's words for a moment before nodding and looking down at his lap.

Noticing the younger man's sadness and lingering indecision Grissom sighed before clearing his throat and asking forthrightly, "What keeps you _here_, David? In Vegas?"

Hodges's head snapped up. "But Portland, it's so far, so up north, so…green!"

Grissom burst out into a hearty chuckle. "I've got two words for you, David: Costa Rica."

Hodges grudgingly conceded the point with a small laugh.

"It's the City of Roses, David," Grissom went on, "and you don't have to learn a whole new language."

Hodges's face lit up with sudden excitement. "And there's the beer!" he exclaimed.

Grissom acquiesced with a nod. "And Wendy," he added quietly.

Hodges sobered up. "And Wendy," he repeated solemnly.

"You know, David," Grissom said quite seriously now, "after Warrick died I...lost my way a little - my bearings." Hodges nodded gravely. "And after the funeral when Sara left again, I realised that I'd already lost someone I loved and that I didn't want to lose another one." His lips pulled into a small smile. "Once I knew, once I realised that being at the lab wasn't enough, that it was of no comfort to me anymore and that I was miserable because she wasn't there, well..." he smiled wider now, "I would have gone to the end of the world to find her." He turned loving eyes toward Sara, adding after a moment, "And she came to Paris for me."

"Wendy didn't stay for me."

Grissom looked at Hodges in the eye when he said, "Neither did Sara."

This gave Hodges pause and he nodded, a smile breaking across his face. "You're lucky," he told Grissom, "You got it all." Grissom arched a quizzical brow. "The woman, the work, the passion…" he laughed, adding, "the dog."

"It was a long and winding road, with many a dead end," Grissom replied, stealing another glance at Sara, "but yeah, I got it all and I've never been happiest."

"May I ask another question?" Hodges asked quite candidly.

Grissom took his eyes off Sara long enough to nod at the tech.

"You let her come back here, back in Vegas, and you stayed in Paris," he said, eying Grissom cautiously, gauging for a reaction, "even though you knew that maybe after all that had happened it might not be the best thing for her – or for you."

Grissom pondered Hodges's words for a moment. "I didn't _let_ her come back here; it was never my choice to make, but yeah you're right." He watched Hodges hesitantly, unsure whether to open up about something that concerned Sara. "I just didn't stand in her way," he said eventually, letting out a breath. "It's something Sara needed to do for herself and coming back to Vegas has been the best thing for her – for us – I'm sure of it."

Hodges nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground before flicking furtively back to Sara. "You think I could have this one day?"

Grissom registered a look of surprise. "I think it's in each and every one of us to have this," he replied honestly. "You've just got to want it enough."

Hodges pursed his face, nodding, before lapsing into an uncomfortable silence and Grissom resumed watching Sara play with Hank. She turned toward the two men and waved happily.

"You know what?" the tech said suddenly, waving back at Sara. "I'm going to leave you two to it." He got to his feet. "I appreciate the chat and you letting me crash your tête-à-tête."

Grissom smiled. "Don't mention it, David. I hope you can figure it out." Hodges smiled, nodding. "We'll see you later."

He watched as Hodges waved goodbye at Sara as he strode quickly through the park. Sara waved back and grinning came jogging back toward Grissom, Hank bounding by her side. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair messy but her eyes shone with happiness and freedom and he felt a sudden surge of love and pride wash through him.

"You two finished your little heart-to-heart?" she asked, panting as she kneeled down beside him.

Grissom laughed and pushed Hank out of the way before pulling her to him by the lapel of her jacket. He leaned across to take her lips in a slow, lingering kiss, which after her initial surprise Sara was more than happy to return.

"What was that for?" she asked when she finally could catch her breath.

"Can I not just kiss my wife for no other reason than because I want to?" he retorted joyfully.

Sara giggled and narrowed her eyes at him. "What on earth did you tell him? Or rather, did he tell you?"

He lifted an easy shoulder. "He reminded me how lucky I am."

Sara's grin was pleasurable. "And what did you do for him, huh? He was grinning like the proverbial cat as he left."

"Nothing that concerns you, my dear," Grissom replied, stifling a smile. "But let's just say that I've got a feeling his days are counted."

Sara frowned. "He's sick?"

"You could put it this way, yes."

Hank lay down next to Sara and she gave his side a good rub. "Gil, you're not making sense."

"He's going to leave the lab, Sara."

"He told you as much?" Sara asked, unable to disguise her surprise at the news.

"No, but I think it's only a matter of time before he does."

Sara pursed her face thoughtfully. "You think he's got it in him to uproot his life for Wendy?"

Grissom shrugged. "_I_ did."

Sara's face softened lovingly and she leaned over to kiss him. "That you did, and it was the beginning of the rest of our life."

Grissom pulled her to him and Sara turned so that she was half-lying half-sitting against his chest. He wrapped an arm around her, his hand coming to rest over the swell of her abdomen while Sara mindlessly stroked her hand through Hank's coat. "He's like me," he said softly after a while in silence.

Sara shifted in his arms. "Who, Hodges?" she asked, looking at her husband with bafflement.

He nodded into her hair and when she opened her mouth ready to object to the comparison he added, shrugging, "He needed empirical proof, and a little nudging in the right direction. And I thought-"

"And you thought that ," she continued for him, "if he could see for himself what we have and what he was missing out on..." she let her words drift and he nodded that she was correct. "Not just a pretty face, huh?" she said, a wide grin tugging at her lips.

Grissom shrugged modestly, a crooked smile twisting his lips. "It would appear not."

She nudged him gently in the ribs. "I'm proud of you. You did good."

He pushed aside a tendril of her hair. "You're not mad I just hijacked our downtime for Hodges?"

She shook her head and settled herself into his arms again. "No. I think you were right. We should be spreading a little happiness and lovin' around," she said tongue-in-cheek.

Grissom brushed his lips to the top of her head, his hand dropping back to her stomach instinctively and Sara turned her face, stroking her cheek against his chest lovingly. "Sara?" he asked musingly after a moment. "When are we going to tell them?"

She covered his hand with hers and shrugged. "I don't know."

"It won't be long before we start to show."

She turned in his arms, her brow arched teasingly, her grin wide and beautiful. _"We?"_

The mischievous glint in his blue eyes spoke volume. He fell back abruptly onto the ground, causing Sara to collapse on top of him. Giggling, she turned over and met his laughing eyes with shiny ones of her own, their lips readily joining for a long and languorous kiss.

* * *

The end.


End file.
